Sweetly Bitter
by Bride of Frankenstein Madame X
Summary: While on holiday, Auror Harry Potter runs into fugitive Pansy Parkinson.


**Sweetly Bitter**

Harry felt her before he saw her.

Not that it worried him. He had sensed dark witches and wizards before in his travels, and nothing had really come of it. Sailing around the world by himself had made him cautious, but not paranoid.

But this was different. The magic surrounding her seemed heavy, like sticky syrup, and it left a sweetly bitter residue in the air that clung to his nostrils. Was she a Death Eater? She seemed to permeate the shadows, reeking of black magic. A part of him didn't want to bother tracking her. He was on holiday after all, but the Auror in him wouldn't let it go.

Back home, the blokes in the Auror office teased him about his magical sense, calling it "Potter's Dark Radar." He still didn't know how he developed it. Somehow, when Voldemort died, a dark murky bubble, which had been surrounding him for years, shattered, leaving him vulnerable to sense all the magical auras that existed within a certain radius. The clear downside was that he couldn't turn the bloody thing off. This odd sense wore him out, and he felt edgy. Even now, the hairs on his arms were standing on end.

Drawing his wand from his pea coat, Harry held it loosely at his side, hiding it from the Muggles down the street. Walking along the pier, he scanned the snow-covered streets of Halifax.

He hadn't originally planned on stopping in Halifax. Heavy fog and snowy weather had made the seas rough, which caused his sloop to be tossed around. Everything he didn't have nailed down had crashed to the floor. His bilge was filled with water, and the magical pump couldn't keep up. So he came to shore and docked. He decided to stay the night or maybe two.

Glancing back at his sloop, he could see the wind beating against the mast causing the boat to wobble in the water. He had named her the _Ginny 2,_ after his ex-girlfriend, which seemed odd now that he had broken up with her. In fact, last summer they had talked of taking this trip together, but it was not to be.

He still missed her.

Yet that hadn't stopped him from sailing without her. He loved the feel of directing the wind with his hands, the sails billowing, and the wide, open sky and dark grey sea all around him.

Hermione and Ron had told him he was nuts to try to sail around the world by himself, but he didn't care. He had to get away; go to places where they didn't know his name or recognise his face. He wanted to see wizarding communities in other lands. He wanted to be alone, so he could clear his thoughts.

Now, walking down a lonely street in Halifax, all he could feel was the essence of a dark witch, the heavy, wet fog dampening his hair.

He knew where the witch was—in the pub down the street. Should he go investigate? Considering his profession, he felt like he almost had to, otherwise it would bother him all night. Besides, a beer would just be the ticket right now, so he picked up his pace.

Barnacle Bob's was a dingy pub with a knotted wood sign that swung back and forth in the wind. There were stacked up old picnic tables covered in snow on a patio with a bent awning. A rubbish bin had blown over in the back.

Wiping his boots, Harry stepped inside the door to find a cluster of people hunched over the bar, watching the hockey game on the television. There was a giant swordfish wearing a pirate's hat over the mirror.

Harry ordered a pint and looked around, munching on some salted peanuts.

The witch sat in the corner, lurking like a cat in the shadows. Dressed all in black with spider web stockings, she stiffened when she saw him, her eyes wide. But then she smiled, taking a drink of her smoky-coloured cocktail, pulling out the maraschino cherry.

At first, he didn't recognise her because she had cut her hair in a neat little bob that made her look like a twenties flapper girl. He laughed out loud when he realised exactly who she was. Who'd have thought he'd find Pansy Parkinson in a Muggle dive bar?

Her dark eyes followed his movements.

Was she going to bolt? She looked amused. He knew the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had a warrant for her arrest. She was wanted for embezzling thirty thousand galleons from her employer, Borgin and Burkes. She was also suspected of being a Death Eater sympathiser, which was a serious crime. Of course he didn't have any jurisdiction here. He couldn't arrest her here without the help of the Nova Scotia Magical Auror Department. Getting that help would be a colossal pain in the arse. A part of him though, felt like he couldn't just let her go. He ran his fingers through his hair.

Pansy waved at him, blowing him a kiss, and then popped the red cherry in her mouth.

What the hell was she doing? Did she want to be arrested? Then it occurred to him that she might have lured him here on purpose. If she had, she certainly made an interesting snare. He could detect no other magical being in the bar, so at least he wasn't being ambushed. Holding up his beer, he waved back to her, as if giving her a toast, and then took a drink.

He was surprised when she stood up from her table and walked over to sit next to him, her hands pulling down her tight skirt.

"Why if it isn't Harry Potter…the Boy who Lived."

"Why if it isn't Pansy Parkinson, fugitive extraordinaire. Fancy seeing you here in Halifax. You do realise you have three outstanding warrants for your arrest back in London?"

Pansy gave a mock look of surprise. "Warrants…for me? You're joking. Whatever for?" Taking a seat on the bar stool, she turned to the barman and ordered herself another drink.

Harry pushed his glasses up on his nose. She was smooth. He admired that. "Well, let's see." He held up his hand to count. "First, you're wanted for aiding and abetting escaped fugitive Amycus Carrow. Neighbours say they saw Carrow leaving your house. It's been rumoured that he's your lover," he teased, grinning broadly. He made up the last part.

Pansy choked on her drink. The look on her face was priceless. "That dirty old git! He's not my lover, and I wouldn't touch him with a ten-foot pole!"

Harry shrugged. "I'm just telling you what your neighbours said."

"Sure you are." She frowned. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"I am." He chuckled. "Let's see, what else. Oh yes, your previous employer, Caractacus Burke, says you absconded with thirty thousand galleons of his money while you were working for him."

Her back went rigid, and her eyes turned black. "Burke told you that? Did he say how he earned that money?"

"Burke claimed the money was revenue from his shop. He has ledgers to prove it."

"The money was laundered. Burke's as dodgy as they come."

"I know that."

Pansy leaned forward, the scent of her musky perfume wafting in the air. "I would think that you should be investigating him, instead of me."

He lifted his eyebrows. "Funny, that's exactly what he said about you."

Pansy scowled. "He's such a charming man. So let me ask you, do you think I stole from him?"

"Yes." But to be honest, he didn't care. Burke was a smuggler and black marketeer. If she cleaned him out, Burke probably deserved it.

Pansy studied him and grabbed a peanut from Harry's snack bowl, plopping it into her mouth. "That's only two warrants. You said there were three."

"You're not legally authorised to travel. I do believe your magical passport and Portkey are illegal." Harry cocked his head. "It will take some time, but I shouldn't have any problem extraditing you, since you're not legally allowed to be here."

Pansy frowned, her nails clicking on the polished bar. "If you try to arrest me, I will put up a fight. You would be forced to Obliviate everyone in here. I know you don't like doing that."

The barman interrupted them, bringing Pansy her second drink. He also set a beer down in front of Harry, which Pansy paid for.

Harry was a bit surprised Pansy had real Muggle cash. How come she hadn't just enchanted it? But then that would have left a magic trail, wouldn't it, which would have been incriminating.

Pansy moved up close, allowing him to look down her dress. The lace from her black bra just covered her nipples. "Can we work something out?"

The blood rushed from his head to his cock, and he gulped down his beer. _God, she's sexy,_ in ways he didn't even want to think about. But taking her to bed was not an option, even if she was offering herself to him. Harry straightened his back. "If you are attempting to bribe me-"

"No," her hand flew to his mouth. "Don't think of it like that. I wanted you even before you threatened to arrest me." Slipping her black pump off her foot, she cradled the shoe in her hand and rubbed her stocking clad toe against his shin.

Harry glanced at the crevice between her legs and cleared his throat. "I should arrest you."

"Arrest me tomorrow," she whispered in his ear, leaning forward, her breath hot against his neck.

Her nearness made him dizzy. He could feel the silky tendrils of her hair. He shook his head. Her hand brushed his, her fingers caressing his knuckles lightly. Harry thought the movement was almost obscene with the way she touched him, but maybe that was just his imagination…or was it because he wanted her?

He kept gazing down at her ankle. Her foot was so slender, so perfect.

He had to fight the urge to keep from running his hand up her calf to her thigh. Everything about her tantalised him, from her pale, white skin and ebony eyes, to the musky scent of spiced jasmine that permeated from her skin. Why did he want her? She was nothing but bad news.

"Pansy, get the hell out of here. And I want you to know, you should be happy that tonight I'm not really motivated to bring you in."

Pansy moved in closer, looking deep into his eyes. "But what if I don't want to leave?" Placing her hand on the inside of his thigh, she brushed her mouth against his.

Harry's eyes opened wide. He could taste the smoky cognac on her lips. He was annoyed that he let her do that.

"Where are you staying tonight?" she whispered, running her fingers through his hair, licking his ear.

The barman looked up from his paper, eyeing them with interest.

Harry grabbed her hands, suddenly quite self conscious. "Not here."

She backed away. "Then where?"

The last thing he wanted to do was go home alone.

***

They walked without speaking across the misty pier. Harry's sloop was docked at terminal B, a Wizarding pier that was invisible to Muggles. Halifax didn't have a big Wizarding community, but the wizards that were here loved to fish.

Pansy seemed unimpressed with his boat, frowning slightly when she stepped on board. The boat swayed, and water lapped against the hull.

"You named your boat, _Ginny 2_?" she sneered.

"I did." Harry pulled out his keys.

Her nose curled with distaste. "I don't understand. You're ridiculously rich. Why didn't you buy yourself a yacht and get a crew?"

Harry bristled. How dare she mock his boat? "I'll have you know this is the finest sloop there is. She's been outfitted specially for one-handed sailing so I could cross the Atlantic by myself."

"But you're a wizard." Pansy turned on him. "You can do whatever you want."

"I'll remember that next time," he snapped, opening the door.

He was grumpy that he gave into her, annoyed that he'd brought her home. It didn't change the fact that he wanted to fuck her, though.

Taking a set of narrow steps to the panelled cabin below, he turned on the light. The place still smelled like coffee from breakfast this morning.

Pansy came down the stairs carefully, her high-heeled shoes clicking on the polished wood.

To his embarrassment, the place was a mess with scattered books, maps, and a couple of half-filled tea cups sitting on his desk. Dirty dishes filled the sink in the tiny kitchen to his left, and he had crumpled clothes strewn over the U-shaped sofa. Under the wheel, his bedroom cabin door was wide open, showing his unmade bed.

Harry blushed and tossed a dirty sock into his laundry bag.

Pansy chuckled, walking over to the sofa, folding his jeans and shirt, setting them to the side. "It's nice to know you have one vice…sloth."

"I have lots of vices," he grumbled. "One of them is taking fugitive, dark witches back to my place."

Pansy smiled, taking a seat on the sofa, making herself comfortable. She glanced down at her painted nails. Her dark eyes had a glint to them. "So what do you want to do now, Potter?" She crossed her legs.

"Damned if I know." But that was lie. He knew exactly what he wanted to do with her. Already he was imagining her without her black dress, spreading those skinny thighs of hers and taking her knickers off. She was such a cheeky bitch. Just the thought of wiping that smug look off her face turned him on.

But he wanted some answers from her first. "What were you doing in a Muggle pub?" He put his hands on his hips.

"I like Muggle pubs."

"Please, you barely tolerate Muggle-borns, let alone Muggles. Why on Earth would you want to drink with them? Were you meeting somebody?"

"No." Pansy took off her black coat and leaned back on the bed. "Are you interrogating me, Mr. Potter?" She licked her lips.

Harry sucked in his breath. He kept eyeing the tiny pulse in her throat. She was nervous. So was he. "Well, you do seem to evade every question I ask. Should I tie you to the mast?" He liked the idea of her tied up, completely naked, and at his mercy.

Pansy let out a big laugh. "I'll be damned…Harry Potter is a perv?"

"Most definitely." He threw his coat on the sofa

Pansy started to giggle, pulling up her skirts. She was wearing red garters, which excited him. "Should I be distressed?"

Harry took a step forward and yanked her to her feet. "What do you think?"

She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Roughly, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Running his hands down her buttocks, he gave her bottom a smack, which made her yelp.

Finally, he had her exactly where he wanted her.

Pansy's eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a tiny squeak, clearly enjoying this. She started kissing him back, clawing his back with her fingernails.

His hand cupped her bum, caressing the sleek velvet of her dress, gliding down her hip. He could smell her sweat, but he could also smell the bitter-sweet scent of dark magic seeping from her hair and her flesh. Her skin almost tasted acidic underneath his tongue. Was she under some kind of dark spell? If she were, it would explain why her temperature was so high. Binding spells coated the body, making everything sticky. Not caring, he nipped her neck.

Pansy stiffened in his arms, her breath hot on his throat. She grabbed his cock, touching him through the soft denim of his jeans, and unzipped his fly.

He yanked off his grey sweatshirt, thrilled when she kissed his chest, her fingernails raking his back.

"I want you naked." Unbuttoning her dress, he bared her back.

She pressed up against him, her breasts squashing against his chest like pillows.

Squeezing her nipple, he smiled, thrilled to feel the tender nub harden under his touch.

She wiggled out of the dress and unclipped her bra, letting it fall to the floor. Her dark hair was messy, and her red lips looked swollen. Now dressed in only lacy knickers, red garters, and black stockings, she was obviously ready to be fucked.

"Do you always dress like this?"

"Only when I'm dealing with Ministry officials."

"Figures." He picked her up and carried her to his bedroom, tossing her up on the waist-high bed.

She landed with a plop on her back and winced. Sitting up, she blew him a kiss, and then turned around so her feet were at the pointy end, setting her bracelets and watch in the cabin's pigeon hole.

Harry admired the slender curve of her back. He couldn't pull his jeans off fast enough, his cock painfully hard. There was something wrong, however. Dark magic still surrounded her, hiding something. She seemed to be covering herself in _Glamours,_ and he had to see what it was, if only for his own safety. A part of him was still worried that he was being set up. So he reached over for his coat and grabbed his wand, pointing it at her. He uttered a spell. _"Revelio."_

Pansy's jaw dropped, her eyes widening. She held up her hand to shield herself. "Wait!"

It was too late. The spell unmasked her. Nasty welts striped down her back and buttocks, as if somebody had taken a bullwhip to her, streaking across her pale flesh. Now he understood the black magic radiating from her. It wasn't her magic. The spell was the magic of others, trying to bind her to them. She was being tracked.

Harry froze, his throat tightening. A rush of anger flushed his face. Stepping up on the bed, he grabbed both her arms. "Who beat you?"

Pansy's eyes filled with tears. "I don't want talk about it."

"But you will talk about it."

"No!"

"I insist!"

"I said no!" Pansy pushed him away, her hands curled into fists.

Their eyes met. Now He knew why she was in a Muggle pub. She was hiding, but from whom? His throat tightened. What had her life been like these last few years? He wiped a tear from her cheek. "Tell me," he said softly.

"I can't."

"Yes, you can."

Pansy laid her fingertips on his mouth. Her hands were trembling. "Harry, please, for once, don't be an Auror. Can't we just have sex?"

"Why are you with me tonight?"

"I don't know."

"Don't give me that."

Pansy looked away.

Harry touched her cheek, turning her face to look at him. "Talk to me."

Her eyes were glossy, like dark pools. "I wanted to feel safe."

Harry's shoulders drooped. He no longer wished to put her in her place. Now, he just wanted to hold her in his arms and stop her from shivering.

Pansy kissed him, pulling him down on top of her. She looked deep into his eyes. "I think you're a good man, Harry. I know you didn't believe me earlier, but I truly feel horrible about trying to hand you over to Voldemort. I want to make it up to you."

Harry removed his glasses, setting them on inside a pigeon hole and turned off the light. His hand moved to her back, caressing her tenderly. He could tell she was still crying, even in the dark. "Pansy, how can I help you when you won't tell me who's abusing you? Talk to me."

She looked away. All he could see was the dark silhouette of her face. "Please. You know I won't let this rest, so you might as well tell me. It's part of who I am. I can't see you treated like that and just walk away. Who beat you?"

The muscles in her throat shifted. "If I tell you, do you promise to not do anything?"

"No."

Pansy was silent.

He moved his hand to her wrist and could feel her pulse beating rapidly.

"Tell me," he murmured, kissing her neck.

Pansy's voice was a whisper. "My father."

"What?" It was like he was kicked in the gut. "Your own family did this to you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I disobeyed him. Because he's a tosser!" Her body was rigid as steel. "I don't want to talk about this."

Wrapping her legs around his hips, she pressed her mouth to his lips. "Shut up and kiss me."

Harry bent down and pressed his lips to hers. He had thought her so strong, so self-assured, but now he wasn't so sure. She reminded him of a waif, so thin and malnourished. He wanted to protect her.

Pulling off her knickers, he touched the soft round of her buttocks and moved his hand between her legs.

She arched her back, opening her legs to welcome him, and the bed shifted beneath them.

Entering her gently, he kissed the tears from her face.

Pansy sucked in her breath, clinging to him, her body rocking silently beneath him. Funny how she never made a sound. Even when she climaxed, he could feel her body vibrate, but she bit her lip to keep from screaming.

Holding her in the darkness, he watched her chest move up and down, like a sigh. She seemed fragile, ethereal. He kissed her.

In the morning, she was gone. The spot where she had slept still had a dent in the sheets.

He had known all along she would be gone when he woke up, yet it still bothered him. He couldn't stop thinking of her. Her scent filled his cabin like deep musk.

Still dressed in his robe, he threw on his boots and pea coat and went up top. The sun was low in the sky, and the wind had a bitter chill. Snow dusted the tarps, and the deck was icy. Untethering the _Ginny 2_, he pulled out his wand and untied the sails, spreading the white canvas over the mast, letting the sails flap in wind.

Harry knew where Pansy had gone; he could feel it. She was in St John, and he knew he was going to go after her. He couldn't help himself. He had to keep her safe, even if he had to arrest her to do it.

Looking out over the horizon, the seas were calm. With a feeling of loss and pain in his gut, he sailed for St John. 


End file.
